


Treasures Untold

by SheWhoWalksUnseen



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1930s, Alternate Universe - The Mummy Fusion, Attempt at Humor, ColdWestAllen Week, F/M, Historical Inaccuracy, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, So much flirting, Violence, Yes I know the orig Mummy was set in 1926 but leave me be I'm rounding up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-17 10:49:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18963742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheWhoWalksUnseen/pseuds/SheWhoWalksUnseen
Summary: After moving with her fiancé to Egypt for his work, and getting a much-needed break from the chaos of America before their wedding at the end of the year, Iris West wasn't prepared for her new life to feel so tedious.That is, until she accidentally stole an ancient artifact from a stranger and wound up roping her, Barry, and said stranger into a quest to find the fabled City of the Dead, for better or for worse.





	Treasures Untold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nateheywood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nateheywood/gifts).



> This may wind up being my next multi-chapter fic... Surprise? 
> 
> I won't be able to do all of Coldwestallen Week this year (which is probably a good thing, to be honest, considering how late I finished last year) but I wanted to get at least one fic done.
> 
> I blame _nateheywood_ for encouraging me to watch the 1999 film, and then the first sequel, all while listening to me yell about how gay I am for Rachel Weisz throughout both. This is for you - consider it motivation for future fics. <3
> 
> (And no, I swear this title was not intended to be a reference to "Part of Your World" from The Little Mermaid.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand thank yous to _SophiaCatherine_ for beta-ing this first part and encouraging me to go for more. <3

Traveling across the world to study Egyptology had seemed like a far more enthralling idea when Barry had presented it over dinner, eyes bright with awe as he rambled on about the honor of getting to work in the library under some famous Egyptologist named Harrison Wells. 

Granted, at the time, Iris had lost yet another job in her pursuit of becoming an editor for the Central City newspaper - and really, she hadn’t had the heart to tell her family just yet that the reason she’d lost it came more from her _quitting_ than her actually getting fired from the paper. Sitting behind a desk was no life for her. Iris wanted to be out there with the world, telling stories and looking into helping people. Or maybe it was just a side effect of being a retired policeman’s daughter, but still! She wanted adventure, excitement, new experiences! So, the concept of escaping America to live in a new country for a while and exploring Egypt with her fiancé was an appeal she couldn’t deny.

That being said, life in Egypt was not as appealing.

For Barry, being confined to the library most days and reading up on historical texts was the closest thing to a dream come true. Sure, there was no actual exploration meant to be involved in his job, no digs or expeditions he was part of, but the thrill of _being_ in Egypt was a dream in itself.

However, the intrigue wore off after a few weeks; Barry’s confinement began to feel more suffocating than freeing, and he confessed to Iris one night that spending all his time in the library, even when Wells grudgingly gave him a day or two off, was more of a tedious routine than anything else. All he did was shelve books back in their rightful place more often than not. There was very little exploration, either outside or within the library. A couple of times Barry tried to talk to Wells about it, but the man shrugged it off, talking of duties and how busy he was - not busy enough that Barry could assist him, apparently, but enough that he deigned to bring it up every chance he had when Barry opened his mouth to protest.

Iris offered to talk with him herself, but Barry had laughed, not unkindly, reminding her of the time she had “just talked” with one of their professors and nearly initiated a fist fight. “It’s not a big deal,” Barry assured her, kissing her collarbone in apology. “I’m sure he’ll come around. And besides, I’ve got this whole library to myself, so you can visit any time, tell me about where you’ve been so far.”

Unfortunately, there truly wasn’t much around the little village they were living in. A few markets and a sprawling fenced-off prison were the most exciting sights to see. Barry brought up going to the next village over or so, but neither of them were excellent navigators, even with Wells’s extensive maps that he seemed intent on making of the area. Iris would’ve also rather they travel with a guide who knew where they were going.

This also meant that her idea of searching for work came up with chances that were slim to none, leaving few jobs that she didn’t deem demeaning or outright boring. And there was no way in hell she was joining Barry at his job, seeing as how Wells had a habit of narrowing his eyes every time she visited for more than an hour. She could tell Barry hated seeing her discouraged, doing his best to cheer her up, so she tried not to talk about it. He had enough on his plate with his own occupation as a glorified librarian. Not that there was anything _wrong_ with librarians, but…

Well, she wanted that excitement she’d been craving. And so far, Egypt had fallen flat on its face with this test of freedom.

The only choices she appeared to have left were to either hover around a job she didn’t want and irritate Wells while she kept Barry company, or to do some exploring of what they did have.

Iris was a little grateful that Barry didn’t question how often she took to the one bar in the village, mostly because she wasn’t sure how to explain that it was for informational purposes, though she suspected he knew - once a journalist, always a journalist. It was the closest she had gotten to learning about Egypt aside from Barry’s reading and the few instances she did try to go outside the village. For a small village, the bar seemed to get a lot of hustle and bustle, and she wondered if it was due to the colorful cast of characters who often frequented it. And usually wound up paying an untimely visit to the prison later on.

The one time Barry had accompanied her to the bar, his jaw had tightened at the sight of so many criminals in one place, all drinking and laughing and talking openly about past and future schemes. She didn’t blame him, but a small, and rather guilty, part of her found it fascinating. She kept her distance most of the time, but eavesdropping on conversations, when she could understand them, gave her a thrill. When else would she have the chance to listen to stories like these, no matter how uncertain Barry felt about her visits there? Her father might’ve had a heart attack if he knew, but a story was a story, and who was Iris to turn her nose up at the chance to hear a good one?

So maybe it was fitting that on yet another visit, Iris sat musing about stories and listening in on a group of bandits that were growing drunker by the minute, nursing a drink she'd hardly touched and feeling more than a little bitter about sitting by herself at a bar, because really, what could she find in the desert at this point that she and Barry hadn't found - 

“That’ll get you killed.” 

She did _not_ jump at the sound of a low drawl near her ear, hand flying to the gun hidden in her skirt. Iris turned, eyeing the man to her left who seemed almost amused by her scrutiny.

She was sure that she hadn’t seen him around before. He didn’t look like the type to linger around bars like these, though his shabby, torn clothes said otherwise. With salt-and-pepper hair, the start of a beard, and bright eyes that gave her a relatively calm once-over, he didn’t appear nearly as drunk as his fellow patrons. Nor as loose-lipped about his own interests, so it seemed.

Iris smiled, a thin but politely pleasant imitation of attentiveness. “I beg your pardon?”

The man leaned closer, his elbows sliding a little on the bar counter and brushing her own in a way she had a feeling was deliberate. He nodded past her to the raucous table behind them she’d been eavesdropping on, far too immersed in their boastful tales of heists from digs nearby to realize she had an observer. “Anyone tell you you’re not the most subtle listener?”

Her cheeks burned, but Iris refused to drop her smile, eyes narrowing as she straightened on her stool. “Not in such blunt terms. But I don’t think that’s any of your business, sir.”

He studied her for a moment with hardly a twitch in his features, but there was something gleaming behind his eyes that held her stare, firm like a pillar rooted to the earth. Her father got a similar look sometimes when he was thinking of her mother, whispering stories about her to Iris and Wally with this glow about him that verged on sorrow.

There was nothing sorrowful about this man’s expression. Calculating, yes, maybe even thoughtful, but there was nothing but interest and intrigue as he chuckled, glancing again at the men shouting now at the table.

“Maybe not,” he admitted, leaning back an inch to take a sip of the beer he was nursing. “But it’s things like that that get you killed. Trust me.”

“Doesn’t sound like a very trustworthy thing to say to someone you just met.”

Another chuckle, this time quieter as one of the thieves burst into song, his voice flat and wavering even as his comrades shushed him. Iris fought the urge to move closer to hear him.

“Don’t suppose either of us are being very generous, then.” He finished off his beer and set it down without breaking eye contact. “What brings another American to a place like this? Unless you really are here to gossip.”

“I don’t gossip,” Iris told him. “Can’t a woman go out and drink without a reason?”

“In Egypt?”

“Business and pleasure at the same time.”

He cocked his head to the side, a different kind of curiosity lighting up his eyes. “Business? What sort of business?”

“None of _your_ business, as I believe I said earlier,” Iris said, and she didn’t intend for her words to come off as petulant, but there was an edge to her voice that surprised her the moment they left her lips. The man seemed less surprised than her somehow, maybe even relaxed by the ribbing.

“I see.”

“And who exactly do you think you are, trying to advise me on what to do in public and ask about my business?”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth and he extended a hand. “Leonard Snart.”

Iris just raised an eyebrow. “Is that meant to ring a bell?”

“No. Just an introduction. Which is usually meant to be reciprocated.” He waggled a couple of his fingers as if to emphasize a point.

She was not starting to smile. She wasn’t.

Barry would have liked his sense of humor, she admitted to herself. Probably would’ve stuttered at the obvious attempt at charming her.

Iris accepted the hand, though she kept the shake brief and tucked both of her own hands back into her lap to rest over the gun again. She didn’t think this man was interested in what she thought he was, or maybe he truly did consider this a game of sorts, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious. He certainly seemed like both the least and the most dangerous person in the bar. “Iris West. I’d say it’s been a pleasure, but I’m not sure what you’ve been playing at in the first place.”

The man - Snart, she decided, it was best to be impersonal - didn’t look too offended by her candidness. “No games here. Let’s just say I’ve been that curious little eavesdropper, messed around with things I shouldn’t have. I know how this goes.”

“Well, your concern is admirable, but I’m not _doing_ anything,” Iris argued.

“Yet.” She rolled her eyes and started to object, but he held up a hand, though his expression was shifting into something she’d almost qualify as apologetic. Snart rummaged with his other hand through the knapsack slung over his body, pulling out what appeared to be a bronze box.

Iris’s heart skipped a beat as she looked closer, reaching out before she realized what she was doing to take it in both hands. If Snart was irritated he didn’t show it, just watched her turn it over and over.

She’d never seen anything like it. Hieroglyphs adorned the top and sides,  and the box itself was in a weird octagonal shape. There didn’t seem to be a lock or keyhole anywhere in sight, no way for her to open it.

Something about it seemed familiar. Maybe it was a replica of something from one of Barry’s books?

“A lover of archaeology?” Snart asked.

“Egyptology,” Iris corrected instinctively, used to explaining the difference to friends and family by now on Barry’s behalf. She turned the box over a couple more times, frowning when she couldn’t find a door or latch. But damn it if she didn’t love a mystery. “My fiancé loves Ancient Egypt.”

Snart was quiet for a moment, and she almost didn’t realize he had paused, so engrossed in figuring out the box. “Ah. Explains the business, then, I suppose.”

Iris looked up, opening her mouth to - well, she wasn’t sure what to say to that, or to the man’s blank expression. Before she could say anything, however, the door to the bar swung open and shouts filled the air alongside the faint ringing of a gunshot.

Snart’s eyes widened a fraction, the first sign of genuine surprise she’d seen in the last few minutes, and someone bellowed something in Arabic as men in uniforms with guns burst into the bar.

She didn’t think, didn’t have time to. Iris dove under the nearest table, not caring how undignified she might look, and waited for the boots storming into the bar to pass her, her heart slamming against the cage of her chest relentlessly. Others seemed to have similar ideas, crying out or bolting entirely from the building now that the attention of the newcomers had turned to -

“Well, well,” came a thick, accented voice somewhere near the overturned chair by Iris’s table, and there was a _thud_ and a grunt as Snart was yanked off his stool before being shoved back against the counter. She pressed one hand over her mouth to stifle the cry tickling the back of her throat. “Leonard Snart, wasn’t it? You’re a hard man to find.”

Snart chuckled, but there was no mirth in his voice now. “And your English is still shit as ever.”

There was a smack somewhere above and Iris winced in sympathy, edging backward away from the table legs and boots. Well, at least she knew who ran the prison now. She was starting to think Barry was right about being careful around the village, especially with this many thieves, and soldiers now, running about.

“I think I’m going to enjoy hanging you,” hissed that same angry voice.

Iris hesitated before starting to rise to her feet once the table wasn’t over her head, glancing around.  A few others were still crouched under tables, drinks left forgotten and half-drunk on top, but most everyone had run. Even the bartender was long gone, from what she could see.

Leonard Snart, however, was far from gone, wedged between a pair of men with guns pointed under his chin and the bar, sneering at the others surrounding him. A red handprint was stark against his cheek even from where Iris stood and gone was the collected, smooth-talking stranger from moments before. She didn’t know what it was about the look on his face that unnerved her - or maybe it was still the situation itself, and wow, she really ought to make a break for the door while she had a chance - but her stomach clenched at the sight.

Then blue eyes darted to hers and Iris’s breath caught in her throat mid-gasp as Snart took the time to run his gaze over her, stopping somewhere around her middle. Which was a little offensive, and odd, given his current predicament -

Iris followed his gaze to the puzzle box still in her grasp, fingers paling the harder she held onto it.

Oh. That would do it.

One of the men gave a cry and she backed away again toward the door as he drew his gun and snapped something to his comrade currently staring down Snart, who was likely the one who seemed to despise him. Snart gave Iris a _Look_ with a capital L, as if they were able to read each other’s minds, eyes again darting between her hands and the rather uncomfortably close men boxing him in.

The thing was...

Well, he didn’t really expect her to give it back, right? With only a few bullets in her own gun to defend herself? Against several armed men? How was she supposed to waltz on over and go “Oh, yes, sorry to barge in, but you seem to have dropped this”?

And who knew what he had done to be cornered like this, even if it made her a little sick to contemplate leaving? After all, there’d been mention of a hanging. What sort of criminal was he? What if he’d been planning on attacking her or worse?

Barry’s paranoia was really rubbing off on her.

Iris shut her eyes to groan under her breath as more shouting ensued, this time toward Snart himself, and she shot Snart an apologetic smile before clutching the box close to her chest and sprinting out of the bar, ignoring the pang of guilt and the distant calling after her as the men finally took notice of her presence.

 _On the bright side,_ she thought ruefully, _now you have an adventure to tell Barry about, and for him to fret about, and it’s not like you’ll ever see Leonard Snart again._

 

***

 

Sometimes she really hated karma.

Particularly when it meant she was being led through a certain prison to meet a certain someone she might have stolen from days ago, forcing a smile as Barry stuck close to her side and tried not to fidget in excitement.

As much as she loved him, Iris would’ve loved nothing more than to bolt from the premises and never turn back.

Barry had been just as fascinated (if not, more, given this was the first real discovery he’d been able to make outside of shelving books, even if it was with Iris’s help) with the puzzle box, pouring over each side with wide eyes as they sat together at his desk in the library. However, given that Wells refused to fund any expeditions or research into this project - she didn’t quite catch on to all Barry had ranted about this Hamunaptra place, but this City of the Dead sounded both eerie and captivating beyond belief - Barry insisted on being able to find the person she “traded” the artifact from. Who else could tell them more about it, after all?

To say the least, things were already snowballing rapidly downhill.

Barry nudged her arm, a gentle reassurance that she really didn’t deserve right now. He lowered his voice as the man leading them through the prison courtyard and waved to someone up ahead, probably ordering them to grab their prisoner. And boy, the very thought and the word itself left a bitter taste in her mouth. “You alright? You look a little green.”

“I’m fine,” Iris murmured, widening her smile, though he, rightfully, didn’t appear satisfied with that answer. “Just... Well, are you sure you want to do this? I mean, I don’t know if anyone besides Wells even knows what Hamunaptra is. Or if they do, they may not even want to tell us about it.”

“I have to try. It’s been lost for centuries and...” Barry looked around them as if he expected one of the prisoners to be eavesdropping. “Iris, think about it. Getting to find someplace ancient - ”

“And possibly cursed, so you said,” she reminded him.

“ - would help us get that money we need to both get back home in time for the wedding and give us that discovery I set out here for.” He took one of her hands in his and her heart warmed like it was the first time they’d held hands all over again. Barry sighed, knocking his shoulder lightly against hers. “I know this wasn’t what you were expecting, this whole trip, and I’m sorry for that. Things haven’t exactly been going the way I wanted either. But I want you to be happy and I want to make it up to you with this.”

“Is this a second proposal?” Iris couldn’t help but tease. “With a mysterious, old box and a potential City of the Dead? Barr, you shouldn’t have.”

He snorted, and she could see him fighting a grin. “Don’t tell me you’re not into it. I see you cradling that puzzle box like it’s your baby.”

“Blasphemy. And definitely a discussion for _later_.” Barry’s face started to flush and, as much as she longed to needle him about it, she settled for tugging him after their impatient-looking escort. “But, honestly? You don’t need to prove anything to me with this, honey. I’ll always believe in you and your undead cities. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Barry whispered, and he looked as if he were on the brink of pressing a kiss to her forehead but given the atmosphere, he instead just squeezed her hand. “Though, that doesn’t answer the biggest question here.”

“What’s that?”

“Why are we in a prison?”

Iris grimaced, all that warmth and affection dissipating as dread took its place. “Um. So, about that - “

“He’ll be here in a minute,” the guard declared, jerking his head back to a cell behind him. He sidestepped Barry and Iris, heading for the opposite end of the courtyard. “Hanging starts in five minutes. Be quick.”

“ _Hanging_ , wha - ?” Barry turned to her with a dawning glint of horror in his eyes. “What the hell is going on?”

“Remember when I said I traded that puzzle box from a merchant?” Iris asked, giving him her best _Please don’t be angry with me because I know you’d do the same_ smile.

“Yes, but...” She saw the moment it clicked in his mind, the lightbulb going off as his expression fell. “You... Iris, did you get it from some prisoner? What were you even doing here?”

She laughed, a tad nervously. “Technically, he wasn't here when I did.”

He shook his head, letting go of her hand to point toward the cell. “A _criminal_? Why were you even - How are we supposed to trust him?”

“He gave it to me to look at, I’d say that’s trustworthy enough.” Iris got a horrible, nagging sense of deja vu. “Besides, you just said a minute ago that he’s the only chance we have!”

“Please tell me you at least didn’t trade him something for this,” Barry begged. “Oh, god, is _this_ why you said not to worry about that?”

“Well... I didn’t trade anything for it.”

“Then what - “

The door to the back of the cell flew open and two men dragged a rather disgruntled-looking prisoner forward onto his knees, hands tied tight in front of him, dirt and grime smeared all over his skin and torn clothes. He met Iris’s gaze in an instant and she wanted to squirm as a familiar gleam crept into those eyes. Even when dirty and about to be hanged (something she didn’t want to think about, to be honest, but her insides threatened to churn at the very idea), he looked the same as he had days ago in that bar.

“Seems like a bad time to return stolen property, Ms. West,” Leonard Snart said, inclining his head toward her as the guards took a few steps back. “Or did you want to have another chat before the noose?”

“ _Stolen_?” Barry hissed to her. That incredulous look she normally found adorable just made her wince now. “You _took_ it?”

“I believe that’s what the word means, yes.” Snart’s eyebrows rose as he studied Barry as if he hadn’t noticed the other until he spoke (which she knew had to be utter bullshit). His lips curled at the corners. “You must be the lovely fiancé.”

“I...” Barry glanced from him to Iris, visibly caught between a mix of uncertainty and frustration. “Yes? Uh, Barry Allen.”

“Leonard Snart.” He waved a hand cheekily and Iris bit back a groan. “Also, you may want to curb those pickpocketing tendencies of dear Iris’s. Like I‘ve told her, could get her into loads of trouble.”

“You _handed_ it to me,” Iris reminded him, holding the box closer to her as he glanced toward it. “It’s not my fault that I didn’t have time to give it back.”

“You say that like being ambushed at a bar was my plan all along.”

“For all I know, it could’ve been.”

Barry pinched the skin between his brows and sighed. “Look, just - however you two know each other, it doesn’t matter now. We need you to answer some questions about the - ”

“No.”

Barry blinked and Iris could hardly blame him, feeling herself freeze in shock. “I’m... I’m sorry, what?”

Snart’s expression went stony, an impenetrable wall she couldn’t decipher. “You want to know about Hamunaptra. Unless I’m mistaking any other ancient City of the Dead for why you’d track me down after running off with what is technically my property.”

“Not your property, actually,” Barry corrected. “And if you know about Hamunaptra, that’s great, but why - ”

“What do you think you’re gonna find there, kid?” Barry bristled but Snart didn’t back down, pushing himself onto his feet with bound hands. “A city of old, towering somewhere in the Egyptian desert? Mummies? Caverns and tunnels and more treasure than you’ve ever seen in your life? Because I can tell you that you’ll find none of that. Nothing but blood and sand and ghosts of everyone who’s died trying to find a myth.”

“The puzzle box proves it _isn’t_ a myth, though,” Barry said, jabbing a finger at said box in Iris’s hands without looking back as he took a step closer to the bars. “And just because you’re a skeptic doesn’t necessarily - ”

“Ever heard of the French Foreign Legion?” When Barry nodded, Snart spread his hands the best he could in his state, a mirthless smile spreading across his face. “Wouldn’t you know it, I got roped into joining three or four years ago. Needed the money. But the last operation? Out in the desert? We were told we’d found the Holy Grail, the thing we’d really been searching for all that time - the Hamunaptra. Never seen any commander so excited about a mythical city of sand.” That smile sharpened, shaping into a figurative knife to their throats. “Didn’t tell us there were others after it that day too, that they were willing to die for it more than we were. And you wanna know what happened to them?”

“That doesn’t mean - ”

“Dead.” Those blue eyes were living icicles. “Both sides were massacred over a city that doesn’t even exist and I was the only one who crawled out alive. And in the end, all I got was blood, sand, a near-death experience with heatstroke I won’t soon forget, and a little box that does nothing.” Snart pressed his face against the bars, either not seeing or ignoring the way the guards behind him shifted their weight, glaring at his back. “So, if you want to die like every other harebrained, wannabe explorer, be my guest. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Iris could see Barry getting ready to snap and crossed over to the bars, keeping her shoulder pressed to his in an effort to calm him down. The last thing they needed was a shouting match in a prison. “Snart, we _need_ to know where it is. Not for money or glory or whatever you think we’re here for. It’s - look, it’s for history’s sake, if anything else.”

Snart rolled his eyes. “ _History_? Sorry, gonna have to give me a better incentive than that if you’re so keen on - ”

“We can get you out of here,” Barry said.

Both Iris and Snart turned to face him with wide eyes (though the latter schooled his expression into something vaguely indifferent).

“We _what_?”

“Oh?”

Barry huffed and folded his arms over his chest, but Iris knew that stubborn look in his eyes and he wasn’t backing down as he leaned in and kept his voice quiet. “I said, we’ll get you out of here if you take us to Hamunaptra. You’re on death row, right? I’m sure we can convince them to let you off on... I don’t know, good behavior?”

Snart’s brow furrowed in thought and _oh my god, they were actually considering this_. Iris felt like shaking the two of them; stealing was one thing, however accidental it had been, but _breaking a criminal out of prison_? She could picture her father having a fit over the very idea back in America.

“They won’t go for something like that,” Snart said slowly. “The warden’s not my biggest fan.”

“So? We’ll - We’ll find a way!” Barry glanced at the guards and back to Snart. “It’s not like security’s high class around here.”

“Careful, you’re starting to sound like a criminal.” Snart’s blasé tone was betrayed by the hint of returning amusement to his eyes. He drew himself to his full height so he was nearly nose-to-nose with Barry, sweeping his gaze over him, then to Iris, and then back to Barry. Despite the bravado of irritation, Iris could see a faint splotch of pink beginning to stain her fiancé’s cheeks as Snart grinned.

The door at the opposite end of the cell opened and someone they couldn’t see called, “Time’s up!” The two guards immediately strode toward Snart and Iris’s breath caught in her throat all over again, just like it had in that bar the other day.

Snart, however, appeared pleased as punch and just grinned wider in the face of the flicker of panic across Barry’s face. Iris probably shouldn’t have been focused on the way their noses were brushing and how pink Barry was turning by now even as her own panic sank like a stone down to her gut, but there was a curl of _something_ in her chest just watching them both.

“See you on the other side,” Snart murmured, his voice almost inaudible as the guards seized his arms and hauled him off to his death, leaving Barry and Iris to stand stock-still for a moment or two in stunned silence as the dull noise of a crowd cheering for a hanging drifted through the air.

“I can see why you robbed him,” Barry said weakly, and Iris had to laugh, on-edge and stressed as she was.

“Again, not intentional. But, uh...” She heaved a deep breath and straightened, taking Barry’s hand in hers. “I suppose we have a crook to save.”

Regret flickered in his eyes for only a brief second before he nodded. “Right. For... For history and puzzle boxes and ancient curses and tombs, I guess?”

“For us,” Iris added. She watched him swallow a lump and gave him a winning smile. The sound of the crowd roaring grew louder and a dagger twisted in her chest.

“For us,” Barry repeated.

And they ran off, hand-in-hand, to rescue their guide from his hanging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd truly be interested in more, please let me know, though I will warn you now that I will _not_ be posting more chapters until after _Bound by Silver Tongue_ has ended because too many multi-chapter fics at once is not something I can handle right now.
> 
> But anyways, come scream with me at my DCTV Tumblr @areyouscarletcold. Comments are always appreciated, and have a great day!

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd truly be interested in more, please let me know, though I will warn you now that I will _not_ be posting more chapters until after _Bound by Silver Tongue_ has ended because too many multi-chapter fics at once is not something I can handle right now.
> 
> But anyways, come scream with me at my DCTV Tumblr @areyouscarletcold. Comments are always appreciated, and have a great day!


End file.
